Hank Grayson and the Vole of Doom
by katfairy
Summary: Saving The Realm while the rest of the world parties. Yep, definitely one of those days. Edited AGAIN because this site hates formatting.
I've had this sitting on three different computers for far too long- although the first wasn't my fault because it crashed and the idiots who were supposed to be fixing it dicked around for over a year before sending back a disc with some of my files and saying, "Oops, our bad, can't fix it." The rest is totally my fault, because I got distracted. This was originally meant to be part of a fanfic contest/collection/group effort, but I'm not entirely sure what happened to that. Anyway, here's my offering, which can stand alone. Also, I haven't abandoned my other stories. Let's just say that drama has ensued and leave it at that.

EDIT: BASIC FORMATTING PRESERVED, MY ASS.

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"I wonder if this sort of thing ever happened to Robin Hood," Hank muttered from what he fervently hoped was a safe perch in the huge oak-like tree. Uni stayed very still, nestled in the crook of a branch. She wasn't stupid enough to go scrambling around; she knew perfectly well that unicorns and tree-climbing were NOT the best combination. Instead, the two of them looked down at the fierce adversary who had them cornered.

"Orcs, I can fight. Lizardmen, bugbears, anything Venger calls up. So why am I sitting up here like an idiot? Because I can't take a chance that someone might actually care about that thing. And I'm starting to sound like Eric."

"Bleah," Uni replied.

"I think he's laughing at me."

"Bleah," Uni repeated.

"Now I think you're laughing at me."

Uni just looked innocent. Hank sighed. All they'd done was walk into the village- the strangely quiet village- looking for something to do. Maybe do some trading, get some fresh food, but the main idea was to have a bit of downtime. Today, the fate of The Realm could rest on someone else's shoulders. No fighting, no monsters, nothing. It had been a nice idea. Unfortunately, the moment he'd walked past the first cottage the biggest dog he'd ever seen had come tearing around a corner. Hank hadn't stopped to ask questions; he'd picked up Uni and ran. He'd noted the tree in the center of the village so he made for that, hoping there were branches low enough for him to reach. There were, he did, and now he found himself glaring helplessly down at the animal he'd silently named Dogzilla. The dog had sat at the foot of the tree and growled every time it looked like Hank was thinking about escaping.

"How do I get myself into these things?"

"Because of your kind heart, Ranger."

Hank yelped, jumped, and nearly fell out of the tree. Dogzilla looked up expectantly, then visibly sighed as the young man regained his position with more energy than grace. The young man also favored the new arrival with a glare usually reserved for Venger.

"You know, Dungeon Master, sometimes I really wish you'd knock first."

Dungeon Master's normal amiable expression didn't change, but Hank just knew he was being laughed at for the third time this morning.

"I am sorry, Ranger. I did not realize you were so preoccupied."

"Is that really a dog down there?"

"Why, yes, of course. You were very wise not to attack it, for you will need its owner's assistance."

Hank groaned.

"Oh, no. Not another threat to the entire Realm? I'm not even sure where the others are right now!"

"The others cannot help you with this. And yes, I'm afraid it is."

"..." Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course it is."

"This quest is for you alone."

"Wait a minute- you said Dogzilla's owner-"

"Yes, the dog's mistress will provide you some assistance, but most of the struggle you must face alone."

"Wonderful. Hey, Dungeon Master, where are all the villagers? This threat- has it caught them?"

"Oh, no, they are merely at the river. Today is their Founders' Day celebration."

"In other words, they get to party while I'm getting myself killed." Hank shook his head. "Geez, I am sounding way too much like Eric."

"That is not necessarily a bad thing, Ranger. The Cavalier is perhaps a little too cynical, but it is good to have someone who will question anything. Blind trust can be very dangerous and even one who would normally be considered an ally may betray you, though he has the best of intentions."

Hank winced; Dungeon Master's comment had struck a little too close to home.

"Also, even the wisest man can make a mistake. By questioning your assumptions you make fewer errors."

"I guess. Is that your cryptic riddle for this quest?"

"No, that was just good advice. I have no riddles this time. But be warned, Ranger- sometimes the best thing you can do is to do nothing."

The dog barked as if cued, distracting Hank for a moment. When he looked back up he wasn't surprised to see Dungeon Master had vanished.

"I thought he said he had no riddles," he commented to Uni. Uni came as close to shrugging as he'd ever seen a unicorn come.

"Garibaldi!"

Hank blinked. That wasn't a name he'd expected to hear outside of history class, but a woman's voice had shouted it loud and clear.

"Garibaldi! Where are you, you over-sized Pekingese? Damn fool dog, knows he's not supposed to leave the yard, but nooooo..."

The owner of the voice came into view, still growling like a soprano version of her pet. Hank blinked again. She wasn't what he had expected, not by a long shot. It was hard to tell from his position, but she looked fairly tall- at least 5'9". She wasn't dressed quite like anyone else he'd seen in The Realm; her outfit was more like something from Colonial Williamsburg than the usual vaguely medieval styles he'd seen. Her long ginger hair was caught back in a braid, flowing out from under a broad-brimmed straw hat which concealed her face. She moved smoothly, like a dancer, her dark green tartan skirt swirling around her ankles. When she stopped by Dogzilla, Hank found himself suddenly presented with a spectacular view down her generous cleavage. He quickly looked away, blushing.

"Treeing people again, Gari? What did this one do, sneeze wrong? I swear, I'm going to- hello." The woman had looked up and seen Hank. She had a pleasant face, not unattractive, but not the type of heart-stopping beauty that would get him in trouble if Sheila found out about this quest and her involvement in it.

"Uh, hi," he said intelligently. "I don't think your dog likes me."

"Really? What was your first clue?"

"That's four," he muttered.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow at him, then grinned. "Never mind. Come on down, Gari won't hurt you unless I tell him to."

"Thanks. Think you could catch my unicorn first, though?"

Getting Uni down from the tree turned out to be more difficult than getting her up it had been, especially since Hank kept trying to avoid looking down the woman's bodice. That wasn't easy, since she had to stand right underneath him while he lowered the little unicorn down to her. What made it worse was the fact that she seemed to guess what he was going through and it amused her. Finally they were all standing on the ground relatively safely.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," the woman said. "You're the guy I'm supposed to help save the world, right?"

" 'Fraid so. I promise I'm better at that than at dealing with guard dogs."

"Oh, good. So I probably shouldn't tell you that the only danger you were in was of being nuzzled to death."

Hank looked at the dog. His opinion must have showed on his face, because the woman grinned.

"Yeah, he's a vicious licker. He never really grew up- he was dropped on his head when he was a puppy and, well..."

"He was a puppy?"

"He's half bull mastiff, half Newfoundland."

"Whoa." Hank looked at the dog again. "That's- a dog from back home!"

"Yep. Kinda figured you weren't from around here either. Nora Lamont, by the way."

"Hank Grayson. How'd you get here?"

"A ride at the local amusement park. Gari wasn't supposed to be there, but keeping him out of places he wants to be is a job of work, let me tell you."

Hank laughed. "I'll bet. So he went on the ride with you?"

"The guy running it was NOT happy when Gari came flying down the tracks. Never heard such language in my life. Nothing he could do, though. Anyway, things got all swirly and poof, I'm in an alternate reality. Almost like some of those old TV shows- you know, 'Land of The Lost', "Quantum Leap'- well, that one was time-travel, but you know what I mean."

"Quantum who? Never mind. How long have you been here?"

"I think it's about fifty years now."

"Fifty-" Hank paled. He'd noticed that they hadn't aged in all the time they'd been in the realm; now he wondered if that was because they would need their youth for a long time. After all, if she'd been here fifty years and still hadn't found a way out...

"It's not what you're thinking," she said. "I told the little guy I didn't want to go back. I don't go and come back, I don't start aging. It's that simple."

"But we've gone and come back, and we still..."

"Did you choose to come back to stay?"

"No. We only came back because Venger threatened our world."

"How long were you home?"

"Ten minutes at most."

"Well, then. You didn't come back because you wanted to spend the rest of your life here, and you weren't there long enough for the Realm's effects to have worn off anyway. It takes a few days before the effects wear off, I'm told. I didn't want to go back for any reason, so I'm functionally immortal, unless Old Horndog gets pissed at me and kills me on general principles." She didn't seem too worried about the possibility. "Anyway, I'll finish my thirty-second life story, then you can give me yours. So I get here and this little guy calls me a sorceress, gives me a wand, and tries to send me out to find a portal back home while fighting evil on the way. I tell him 'not so fast' and demand a more thorough explanation."

"And you got one?"

"You have met Dungeon Master, haven't you?"

"Good point."

"He did tell me at the time that he didn't have much choice in the matter. Over the years I've gotten the impression he doesn't have much say over who gets sent here. He just takes whoever comes and tries to get them home as best he can without overtly interfering in the progress of The Realm as a whole. He's only allowed to do so much unless it's in direct response to a personal threat. Anyway, he implied that certain powers would exchange passage home in return for my driving away or destroying this monster. So I went, I kicked some monster ass, and then I told them I had no intention of returning home and if they felt they had to repay me they could find me a place to live here and bring my stuff over from my world. That's when I learned about the non-aging bit. But I didn't care. Actually, I kinda liked that part. Means I have more time to study the way of life here. I was a historian/anthropologist back home, so this sort of thing is more or less right up my alley. Not my period, mind you, but it's still fascinating. After some questions on both sides, they... found me this cottage. I've been here ever since, except for the odd occasion when my services have been required elsewhere. And that's me, more or less. Though rather less than more."

While she talked they had made their way back toward the cottage where Garibaldi had come after them. From the outside it looked like a typical stone cottage, although in better repair than a lot he'd seen in this world. In fact, the whole village was in better shape than a lot of places he'd been in. He wondered if that was because it wasn't really very close to anything important or because she was powerful enough to protect it.

Inside the cottage was a bit of a shock to Hank's system. Again he was reminded of Colonial Williamsburg; somehow she'd managed to create an 18th Century atmosphere. But not entirely. Along one wall was a TV, stereo, and some stuff he didn't even recognize. Over the fireplace was a portrait of a silver-haired man who seemed to be toasting him with a glass of wine. On another wall was an oil painting of what looked like Nora's cottage, but it was situated at the side of a brook and surrounded by flowering shrubs. Books were everywhere, and certainly not restricted to the many bookcases. On the back of an incredibly ugly but comfortable-looking chair sat a huge fluffy cat, black with white paws and throat, and moon-green eyes. The cat looked unimpressed; but then, that's what cats did.

"How the heck-?" Hank wasn't sure which question to ask first.

"All my tech toys are powered by magic. That was also a job of work, I gotta say. Took a lot of trial and error. But it's not like I didn't have the time. The painting of the cottage... well, when they said they'd find me a home here I dragged the painting out of my stuff and told them that was what I wanted. Didn't have to be an exact match—this guy always puts his houses much too close to water; they'd flood after a passing shower- but that was the general idea. I've been teaching the local crafters how to make slightly more modern things. I've only brought them to about the mid-18th Century- didn't want to start getting factories involved. It's worked out pretty well, too. They still make what they consider traditional wares, but now they have something you can't get everywhere. Thankfully people don't pick up and move as easily as they do in our world, so the place isn't likely to get too big for quite a while. Fact is, in the years I've been living here we've had a grand total of two families, a widow woman, and a new blacksmith come in."

Hank scratched his head.

"That's a good thing?"

"Yes, actually. I don't want to cause the problems we've had in our world just because I like having my own way. There's still a lot of things I'd love to have here, but they aren't worth screwing up what's really a very nice place. If they start getting complacent, though..." She grinned. "Now, how about you have a seat while I change into work clothes? These are not 'saving-the-world' shoes."

"What do 'saving-the-world' shoes look like?"

Nora grin grew wider.

"Steel-toed boots are favorite."

Hank laughed. He liked her; she had a sense of humor and she was willing to get her hands dirty. This was definitely not a damsel-in-distress. Also, she was old enough (even without taking into account the fifty years she'd been in The Realm) that Sheila might not object to him working in close quarters with her. Not that she'd make a huge fuss, but Hank would know.

A few minutes later, Nora returned in jeans, a blue t-shirt, and, yes, those were in fact steel-toed boots.

"Okay, I'll tell you what's the what on the way there. It's not really a very long story, or a dramatic one, but it is something that needs dealing with today. Destiny and all that crap, right?"

"Don't tell me; there's a prophecy."

"It's as if you know this world. So here's the deal: an evil essence was locked away in a cave a bunch of years back, and every so often it tries to escape. Some mages or heroes then have the fun job of keeping everybody far enough away that they don't get possessed while staying close enough that they can keep an eye on it. My job is to turn back anybody who comes down the path today- there's only that one path to the cave. You get to watch the cave and make sure the evil whatsit doesn't escape. Which it can't unless it possesses someone, and then you have to kill them, which will reseal it for a couple hundred years. Luckily, the danger only runs from noon until sundown, at which point, we're both free to join the party."

"Well," Hank said slowly, "that doesn't sound too bad. Wouldn't be the worst job I've had since coming here, although usually my friends are with me. But this doesn't sound like something that needs a lot of people."

"Nah. DM only wants us there in case someone tries to get clever. Most people won't, though, because it's a pretty strong evil, and the type who want the power want to control it, not be controlled by it."

"I can think of at least one who would think he could control it."

"I was really hoping you wouldn't bring that up."

Hank grinned, then rolled his eyes as they got to what could only be the path to the cave. The landscape suddenly changed from rolling green fields and woods to ominous dark grey rocks around a jagged path. There was, of course, an arch over the entrance. It looked like jaws.

"Sometimes this place really gets on my nerves."

"I hear that. It'll look different later, when Evil, Inc. is gone again."

Hank gave an Ericish smirk and started down the path. Then he stopped.

"How will I know-"

"When to stop? Trust me on this- you'll know."

"Got it."

And sure enough, when he got to a certain point, the landscape switched back to green and lush, but it was slightly overdone: everything looked a bit too green, too lush, too perfect. Hank pinched the bridge of his nose again.

"Really, really gets on my nerves."

"Bleah," was Uni's heartfelt response. They settled down to wait.

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"Uni? If I ever complain about having too much to do again, remind me of this."

There was no response; Uni had fallen asleep two hours before.

"There are worse things than boredom. Really."

"Yes, Ranger, there are."

Hank jumped, spun, and yelped at the same time, landing on his ass. Venger smirked down at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay, that's five," Hank growled, leaping to his feet much more gracefully than he'd gotten off them. His bow was aimed and glowing a second later. "Look, we both know how this goes, because it's how it always goes: you threaten, we fight you off, and neither of us gets what we want. So why don't you just save us both the trouble and leave?"

"Your friends are not with you now, boy."

"Yeah, but do you really think that will stop me?"

"There is great power in there; power that I desire. Power that I alone am strong enough to control."

Hank gave him a considering look.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes." There was no doubt in Venger's voice or eyes. Hank sighed.

"Figures. Wait- how did you get past Nora?"

"The sorceress? I saw where she stood and flew in a path she would not be able to see from her vantage."

"You hid from her?"

"She has some skill and power; I simply did not wish to be delayed."

"You hid from her."

Venger glared.

"Perhaps I should have realized at least one of you children would lie in wait for me. As you say, it is how it always goes."

"Gets old, doesn't it?"

"Very."

They exchanged a look that verged on commiseration, then Venger lifted glowing hands.

"And now I will destroy you and claim that power. I-"

Venger's jaw dropped as he looked behind Hank. Hank, for his part, knew better than to think that Venger would be faking, especially when he heard the chittering behind him. He whirled around to see a groundhog-like creature scuttering toward the vale.

"NO!"

The two did not often find themselves agreeing, but both shouted the denial as the animal crossed into the affected space. A sickly green glow oozed from the cave and surrounded it. Its fur turned reddish-black and its eyes glowed with a hellish light as it turned to regard them. Hank could feel the evil power building.

"Uncontrolled by a strong will, that power could destroy the Realm," Venger growled. "That creature can never provide such control."

"Temporary truce?"

"Agreed."

Venger's hands glowed once more, and Hank stood beside him channeling all his will into his bow.

"I can't believe I'm working with you to defend the Realm from a demonic woodchuck," Hank muttered. Venger snorted.

"You sound like the Cavalier."

"Yeah, well, it's been that kind of day."

The creature growled. A sound that high-pitched should not have been menacing, but somehow it managed. Hank and Venger tensed, waiting for the right moment...

...when suddenly Garibaldi bounded past them, grabbed the creature, and killed it with a single hard shake. He tossed it up and down a few times, then ran over and dropped it at Hank's feet happily, waiting. Hank froze, then responded automatically.

"...Good dog?"

Garibaldi gave a cheerful bark, seized the body again, and galumphed away. For a moment, Hank and Venger just stared after him. Then they turned to face each other and the incredulous expression on Venger's face was too much. Hank burst out laughing, falling back against the rocks and slowly sliding down. Venger, for his part, facepalmed.

"I begin to see your point, Ranger."

Hank just giggled. Venger's usual scowl seemed more than a little forced, and a small part of Hank's mind wondered if Venger was trying not to laugh. The evil mage took a deep breath, then another.

"Very well. The power has been sealed for a few more centuries. Our truce is no longer necessary. When next we meet-"

"Yeah, no mercy, I know. Same song, different verse. I think we need some fresh material."

"This was not different enough for you?"

"On second thought, let's stick to the usual."

"And I think it would be best if we never spoke of this again. EVER."

"Are you kidding? Do you think anybody would believe me if I told them we stood side by side to face down the Woodchuck of Doom and got upstaged by a dog?"

"Once again, I see your point." That was a definite twitch at one corner of Venger's mouth. "Farewell."

"Bleh?" said a sleepy Uni, wandering up to Hank. Hank looked down, and when he looked back up, Venger was gone. He stood up.

"Maybe he really was one of Dungeon Master's students. He certainly knows at least one of his tricks, and it figures it's the most annoying. And I have really got to stop sounding like Eric."

"Bleah," Uni said emphatically.

"Hank? What happened? I saw it change, and then Gari came out with- oh. Oh, you're kidding. _That_ got possessed by the Big Bad?"

Hank turned to face Nora, and noticed that he was now on a normal rocky path. The vale was just a green spot among the rocks. His job was done for the day.

"Seriously, Hank, what happened?"

"Don't ask. Just... don't."

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Nora led the way back to the village and then to the festival grounds. She handed him over to a few farmers, asking them to show him around while she changed back into fun clothes. The farmers welcomed him heartily, slapping him on the back nearly hard enough to knock him over.

"So, lad, this is your first time here," one said. "Well, then, you have to try our local specialties- ever had scumble? It's made from apples. Well, mostly apples."

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"GERHARDT! WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"Wow, she's really loud, isn't she?" Hank smiled at his new friends hazily, not noticing one or two guilty expressions on the faces of those with the highest tolerance.

"SCUMBLE? YOU GAVE AN EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLD SCUMBLE? IN WHICH OF THE HALF-DOZEN BRAIN CELLS IN THAT LUMP YOU CALL A HEAD WAS THAT IDIOTIC IDEA COOKED UP? OOOOOOOOHHHHH!"

Hank's smile disappeared, and he whispered loudly to the man next to him, "I think she's a little mad."

Nora took a deep breath, gaining the attention of every man in the area. When she spoke again, she was much quieter.

"All right, laddies, here's what we're going to do. Rufus, Torbald, Seamus, and Alcar, you get the boy back on his feet and walking. He has to meet his friends back at the crossroads tonight. The rest of you, you go find your wives and explain why you and the others haven't been at the dance. Now, move."

Every man jumped to it. Nora nodded sharply, turned, and froze.

"YOU GAVE THE UNICORN SCUMBLE, TOO?"

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"Oh, God."

"HEY, GUYS, HANK'S AWAKE!"

Hank made a strangled noise and tried to jams both hands into his ears. He'd never been all that curious about hangovers, but he knew one when it tried to kill him.

"Bobby, shh. It's not his fault; you heard what the villagers said."

Even Sheila's soft voice was painful, but the cool hand on his forehead was just what he needed.

"Wha..."

"Later. Just rest, now. I'll make sure the others stay quiet."

"Thks."

Hank let himself go again, hoping that the whole day had been a booze-induced dream, and dreading the next time they met Venger.


End file.
